Time and Space 05
This is Chapter 5: Timey-Wimey Stuff is Explained in Miramc22's fan fiction, Time and Space. '' ''Spoilers of how Donna Noble left the Doctor in his travels. ---- "What do you mean, you can't take me home?" I demand. "I got a message on my psychic paper, saying that I needed to come immediatley," the Doctor said. "You have a time and space machine. You can take me home and follow your message later, right?" I ask. It made sense: he could drop me off and then come back to whatever-it-was-he-was-doing-now. What was psychic paper, anyway? "No, it's not worth crossing paths with myself. That would create a temporal paradox," the Doctor said. "Well, you're in 'flight' right now. Can't you just 'fly' back to the Epping Forest and just drop me off there?" I demand. "No, not really. I'm sorry, Lizzie, but we've already landed," he said, wincing. Of course. How could I have been so stupid? The noises of hope had stopped and a loud thump reassured me that we'd landed. "Where are we?!" I ask as calmly as possible. Not waiting for an answer, I ran out of the TARDIS' doors and screamed. I immediatley closed the doors again and turned to face the Doctor. "Lizzie, what did you see?" He asked me. "We really did move," I muttered. "Elizabeth, what did you see?" He asked, concerned. "It... it was... why is it a police box?" I asked blankly. "You want to know that?" He asked me. "I could have landed on a Dalek spaceship and you want to know why it's a police box?" He asked impatiently. I nodded. "The chameleon circuit. It broke while I was in 1960s London. It's been a police box ever since. I've gotten used to it over the centuries," he said. "Don't you like it?" "No! I thought it was a real police box! I'm insane! I was lost!" I exclaimed. "Why did you disguise a spaceship as a police box?" I demanded. "I didn't do it. The TARDIS did it," the Doctor said, like he was blaming his spaceship. "Sure, blame it on the spaceship," I say. I didn't know where I'd gotten the attitude from: all I knew was that I was going insane and that I had to value my last moments of sanity. "She's the best spaceship in the universe, don't you think she'd have a mind of her own?" The Doctor asked. "Sorry, I didn't even know spaceships existed ten minutes ago!" I protested. "What is a chameleon circuit?" "It's part of the TARDIS. Wherever it lands in time and space, it's supposed to blend in with its surroundings within nanoseconds of landing. That's how clever my ship is. She's beautiful, really. I landed in 1960s London, so she disguised herself as a police box," the Doctor explained like I was stupid. "Then why is it still a police box?" I ask impatiently. "Because, I told you, the chameleon circuit broke while it was a police box in 1960s London. My God, you remind me of a friend of mine," he muttered. "You have friends?" I ask blankly. "Of course I have friends! Just not right now," the Doctor said impatiently. "What do you mean by that?" I ask. It was hard for me to imagine this madman in a box hanging out with other weird, alien creatures with six arms and one foot, with five eyes and ten ears or something like that. "I don't have any friends right now," he said, still leaning on a railing. "What happened to your friend?" I asked nervously. "Her name was Donna," the Doctor said, irritated, like he couldn't believe that he was telling me this himself. "What happened to 'Donna?'" I ask. "She's okay, if that's what you mean. I had to erase her memory that I ever existed, and if she ever remembers me again, her head will explode," he said nonchalantly. "My God! That's terrible!" I exclaimed. It came across to me that I was nonchalantly having a conversation with some spaceman inside of his spaceship. "It was for the better. I did it to save her," he said, not meeting my eyes, which reminded me of my dad. "Are you going to tell me what you saw out there?" "Not until I have answers. What are you?" I ask. The Doctor sighed impatiently. "I said I'm an alien, what more do you want to know?" He asked, his hands leaving the railing as he started walking closter to me. "I want to know what you are. You look human," I say. "But you're not human. That's not really what you look like, is it?" I ask. "You humans and your stereotypes of aliens. I'm the good alien, didn't I say that?" He asked. "There's no such thing as a good alien. You're avoiding my questions. Now what are you?" I asked. "There's perfectly such thing as a good alien," the Doctor said. "You're avoiding my questions! Why are you doing that?" I ask. It was bothering me. "I'm not avoiding your questions," he says. "Yes, you are. That's exactly what you would say if you were avoiding my questions." "You're clever, aren't you?" He asked, grinning. I felt that that was sarcasm. "Answer my questions," I say. "Okay, give me your hand," the Doctor says, holding out his hand to me. Why was he asking for my hand? Was he going to chop it off, or kill me or something? "Why should I trust you?" I ask reluctantly. ￼ "I'm going to tell you exactly who I am. Because, obviously, you're not going to leave me alone until I do. Now listen carefully, I'm going to tell you why you should trust me. A name is a promise. The name I chose, it's a promise," he said. His hand still was held out to me, waiting for mine to be placed in his. His old brown eyes stared into my young, blue ones carefully. "I'm the Doctor, and I'm here to help." He smiled at me. It wasn't just a smile: he was inviting me to trust him. It wasn't shy. It was bold, and to me, it meant everything, and slowly, my cold hand fell into his warm one. His hand was much bigger compared to mine, and he squeezed it reassuringly. With my hand in his, he placed it on his face. I felt that it was human skin. "This is me. This is what I look like," he said. "No stereotypical alien," he said. "What are you?" I repeated. "I'm the Doctor. I'm not human. I'm 907 years old," he said. I couldn't explain his expression: it was seriousness, sterness, and sorrow. "I'm from the planet Gallifrey in the constellation of Kasterbourous. I'm from a race called the Time Lords," he said, and I definitely recognized the sorrow in his facial expression. It was definitely sorrow, and anybody could see that. "You're a Time Lord? What's a Time Lord?" I ask. Time had lords? "They were the observers of everything in time and space. They saw everything: what already happened, what will happen, and what could have happened; everything in time and space," the Doctor said. He still looked full of sorrow, and I was actually concerned for this alien I didn't know thirty minutes ago. "You used past tense. Why did you use past tense?" I asked. The Doctor's face looked pained. "They aren't there anymore. I'm not only a Time Lord, but I'm the last of the Time Lords," he said darkly. "W-What happened to the Time Lords?" I asked quietly. I really shouldn't have said that, but my curiosity was so open on the situation, and I had billions of questions waiting to be asked. I thought he would do something terrible to me, like vaporize me from existance with a ray gun or something, but instead, he grinned at me with his maniacal grin again. "Let's not have a history lesson right now. I need to go and explore whatever is out those doors," he said, grinning at me. "No, not yet. I need questions answered. How does this time travel stuff work?" I ask. I'd pretty much understood the space stuff: the machine 'flew'--sorry, 'materialized' anywhere in time and space. "Well, you pop back and forwards in time. It's simple," he says, shrugging. "You just travelled in time, right?" I ask cautiously. "Yeah, this is basic stuff, Lizzie. I should have just travelled back in time, if I actually went to thr right place for once. Or I could be on a Dalek ship. What year are you from?" The Doctor asked me. "June 25, 2013," I say blankly. "Okay, so, you, Lizzie, are a teenage girl from the year 2013, and you're existing before you were even born. Is that possible?" The Doctor asked me. "No, not really," I say. "Then how are you still existing?" He asked. "I don't know. You're the Time Lord. Explain," I say. "It's timey-wimey," the Doctor said, frowning. "Timey-wimey?" I ask, smirking. "Yeah, timey-wimey. Anything can happen in time. Let me tell you something about time: people assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually, from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it's more like a big ball... of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey... stuff," the Doctor said. "Oh, it's wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey," I say, still smirking. "Yes, no, exactly. Get it now?" The Doctor asked enthusiastically. "No, not at all," I said, shaking my head. "Okay. It's time travel. Think of it as magic. And it's possible," the Doctor said. "Anything can happen in time. You can be born in the twentieth century and die in the first century. Time isn't a strict progression of cause to effect: it can change," he said. "But dying in the first century: I'd never be born, right?" I ask. The Doctor wasn't serious about that, was he? "No, you have a timeline of your own. Your personal timeline. If your timeline starts in the twentieth century and ends in the first century, that's just the way it is. There's really no science behind it. But that's not how it's going to be. I can take you home as soon as I finish this mission. Just wait inside of the TARDIS and I'll be back," the Doctor says, putting on a very long, brown coat from a coat rack near the door, which went to about his ankles, and he was probably 6'1". "No, what if you don't come back?" I ask. "I'll be back. I'm the Doctor," he said with his grin. "You still need to explain this to me. You mentioned it earlier: what's a temporal paradox?" I ask. "A temporal paradox, or time paradox. It can tear up the entire uinverse if you cross your own timeline. If you visit yourself, say, ten years ago, that can create a temporal paradox with the Blinovitch Limitation Effect, which just corrects time and makes sure it runs smoothy. Reapers, terrible things, they destroy whatever is causing the paradox, which is sometimes planets and people itself. You shouldn't just mess with history: there are fixed points in time, which is an individual or event with such of a long-standing impact on a timeline that ''no one ''should mess with," the Doctor explained. He looked at me through his glasses, which he had put back on. He only seemed to put them on when something was interesting him. "Do you have that?" He asked hopefully. "Yeah," I say. It pretty much made sense now that the Doctor had explained it. "Is there anything else I should know about wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff?" "No, not now, at least. Now you wait here. I promise, I'll be back to take you home. And when I promise something, it's a promise. You have my word," he said, behinning to take his glasses off. "No way. I'm coming with you. Nothing is going to happen to you that stops me from getting home," I say firmly. "Elizabeth, it could be dangerous. I have a knack for getting in trouble, so you need to be aware of that. If you're going to come with me, you need to know not to wander off, stay within my view, and don't try anything stupid. If you lose me, just get back to the TARDIS. Got that?" He asked sternly. "Yeah, of course," I say. I smiled. A true, genuine smile that this alien returned to me warmly. He held out his hand to me, and I took it. I pushed open the police box's doors and walked outside, into a new world. Category:Time and Space Category:Time and Space Chapter